


Flying High

by Morgana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a whole ocean to cross, Sam has to find some way to take Dean's mind off of flying and the watery death waiting below</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying High

"We're gonna die. I knew it! I told you we were gonna die, didn't I?"  
  
Sam didn't bother to open his eyes. "It's just a little turbulence," he said, in the weary tones of someone who'd been repeating the same thing for the last three hours. And would likely have to continue repeating it for the next seven until they finally touched down in Edinburgh.  
  
The plane shuddered again, and Dean whimpered. Actually  _whimpered_. Sam figured he deserved about ten million good-brother points for not immediately resolving to use this to make Dean pay for all those clown taunts. He wondered again why Dean hadn't just let him come on the trip alone if he hated flying that much. As it was, Dean was treating this like it was one of the labors of Hercules instead of a simple trip to the graveyard. Granted, a graveyard that was three thousand miles away, but that shouldn't make too much of a difference.  
  
When a roar from the engines made Dean grab at his arm, Sam decided he'd had enough. He pushed the call button and smiled at the stewardess who hurried over to answer. "Could we get some blankets?" he asked. "My brother's kind of cold."  
  
"Of course." She turned away to get them and Sam kicked his brother before he could say he wasn't cold. "Just go with it," he hissed.  
  
Years of training made Dean shut up almost immediately, leaving Sam to thank the stewardess and hand Dean his blanket. "Cover up," he told him, smoothing his own blanket over his lap. He turned onto his side, flipped up the arm that divided their chairs, slid his hand under Dean's blanket, and reached over to undo his brother's jeans.  
  
"Sam!" Dean hissed, going poker rod stiff in his seat. "What the hell are you doing?"  
  
Sometimes Sam wondered how his brother could be such a wildcat in bed and such a prude out of it. "Jerking you off," he said matter-of-factly. "It'll give you something besides the flight to think about."  
  
"But we're in  _public_! People could  _see us_!"  
  
"We're covered up," he pointed out. "And if you quit acting like a scandalized maiden aunt, nobody will notice."  
  
That shut him up. Dean glared at him, but didn't say anything as Sam unzipped his jeans and reached inside to pull his dick out. He was half-hard and getting harder, so clearly his body was on board with Sam's plan even if his brain was still catching up. That was okay - his brain wasn't really needed for this anyway.  
  
Sam kept his grip loose as he stroked him all the way hard. It didn't take long, although he hadn't expected it to. When it came to the Winchesters, sex trumped fear every time. Or most times, anyway. He pulled back once Dean was completely hard, licked his palm a few times, then wrapped his fingers around him before the moisture could dry.  
  
"Jesus," Dean whispered as Sam tightened his grip and started to really stroke him. "Can't believe you're actually doing this, Sammy."  
  
He didn't say anything, just grunted as he worked along his cock, jerking him in a steady rhythm that he knew from experience would get him off quickly. There was no point in teasing or taking his time, not when Dean would fight making the noises that made all that worthwhile. Besides, he still needed to get more sleep.  
  
Swiping his thumb over the tip as it began to leak, he spread it around and things got slicker still. Sam pressed his thumb against the nerves just under the head and twisted his wrist with every stroke, watching Dean bite his lip in an attempt to keep quiet. He was getting close, though; Sam had too many years of experience with his brother's orgasms not to know the warning signs.  
  
He moved back up for more precome, fingernail just barely grazing his slit, then rubbed over that little bundle of nerves again. "Shit," Dean hissed, and he couldn't hold back the soft moan as his dick started throbbing in Sam's grip, pulsing out hot and slick over his fingers. He stroked him through it just the way he knew Dean liked, stopping at the moment right before pleasure could turn to pain.  
  
The last shivers worked through him, and Sam opened his fingers, dropping Dean's softening, sticky cock back in his lap. Wiping his hand off on Dean's blanket, Sam said, "Make sure you're all closed up before you get up. Don't wanna have to try to convince them you're not a sex offender or anything when we land."  
  
Dean was quiet for a few minutes. Sam closed his eyes and was nearly asleep when he heard his brother ask, "What about you? Don't you want -?" He didn't have to look to know Dean was making a vague gesture with his hands.  
  
"You can blow me in the airport bathroom," he told him. Without waiting for an answer, he turned away from him and went back to sleep. They still had a long drive ahead of them, and he wasn't about to put Dean behind the wheel of a car in a country where people drove on the wrong side of the road.


End file.
